Misanthropic Rhapsody
by mugichoco
Summary: Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down! - drabble collection; contains yuri (cover art by wogura on pixiv)
1. chamomile ( seeu&mayu )

A scent of chamomile.

She loved it so, didn't she? Always sitting down with a cup of tea, legs crossed and smile withdrawn. Her silky hair cascading down her back in ripples, dipped in rainbows and yellowed like old parchment. Her soft eyes, submissive and flickering from side to side, as if constantly in a state of uncertainty. She would curl her dainty fingers round the cup and lift it gingerly to her lips, eyes fluttering shut as it traveled down her throat. She was so delicate, like a doll. Propped up on a shelf and piled in pretty, frilly things, but only collecting dust. A doll with a pretty little face. A doll with no voice.

A doll that belonged to her only. Her own little bundle of lavender and chamomile.

"I'm so happy I've gotten to sing so much lately. I feel like a real Vocaloid now!" the porcelain bird chirped. A gentle laugh rang out of her lips, like a skipping, antiquated record. "I'm sure I'll be even busier after my release." Busy? No... That couldn't be. Because she was a doll, a doll that belonged to her only, and that she wouldn't give up for anything in the world. Eyes drinking in the others ethereal form, with its milky skin and limbs like chopsticks. All of it...was a plaything of hers, to do whatever she wished with.

A hand rose to lean against her own soft cheek, brushing past thick blonde hair. It curled and wisped and wound and twirled every which way. A great big cloud of dusty gold, and she hated it so. Despite her apprehensions, a small smile rose on her lips. "I'm happy for you. I know that's what you wanted most." Her words poured out like viscous honey, but beneath that, they were stiff and lifeless. Forced? No, perhaps not; that would be too mild of a word for it.

She **hated** the idea.

Her little bird began to laugh again, face pinkening and amber eyes screwing up and shutting in delight. Feeling like an old movie, repeating in an endless loop of nostalgia. It made her want to vomit, but she only widened her smile further, eyes lidding warmly. She was...the girl's 'prince', right? Wasn't that the word she had used? Such a helpless darling, always falling into such troubling situations. But she found it anything but that, falling more and more in love with the rust-smeared marionette every time. Each laugh more timid than the last, each limb just waiting to be snapped. She wanted to own all of her darling, and make sure that no one would ever take that from her.

It hurt. More than anything, it **stung**. She wanted to reach into her chest and rip her heart out, just so that the sensation would go away. And then she'd hold it in her hand and squeeze, watching the dark, pulpy blood spill down her pale fingers. And it would be funny! She'd begin to laugh, tears spilling out of her eyes and slopping down her cheeks. She'd take her heart and kiss it, and then crush it beneath her shoe.

She had wanted to help the girl, to care for her. Because no one had done that for her. Left alone to fend for herself and smile through the criticism that she could never seem to swallow. How could they? Surely the other Vocaloids got even more than her, but they always seemed to keep that composed smile. So she put one on, doing her best to please everyone, even if it drained her of all energy and purpose. Even if there was no end in sight, because, after all, Vocaloids never die. She became her darling's white knight, shielding her from all the bad and helping her up when she needed it. And in doing so, she realized just how fragile her dear really was.

Taking Mayu's precious little wrists in her fingers and crushing them, bones shattering into a million tiny little flower petals. Because Vocaloids don't die. Whatever she does, her darling will only be repaired. Stitched back together and given a weak smile, and forced back out onto the stage in her outdated, graying dresses. Kissing away the tears on her cool, soft cheeks while gently entwining her fingers about her princess's neck, she'd whisper quiet 'I love you's to the silence. Because, no matter what, she'd always be the prince. The 'knight', who never meant any harm.

Even as she drowned in lust and envy, she was dyed a pure white.

A broken form lay at her feet, hair pooling and twisted limbs sprawled out uselessly. The child lifted her head – that lovely little face... – and began to cry. How pathetic. Had she cried, when they had called her cheap, a copy, low quality? Her eyes stung with hatred, but her smile remained unassumingly kind. She knelt down to the other, brushing red stained hair out of her round, amber eyes. "Shhh, my dear... Don't cry, don't cry." Her tone was patronizing, but in such a state, she doubted the other would be able to tell. "They'll only love you more now, right?" She pressed her lips against the others smooth cheek, tasting salt mixed with a metallic flavor.

The bird hiccuped and began to choke, shuddering helplessly. How beautiful she looked, so broken and weak. Entranced, she hungrily devoured the others lips. They were plump, like the persimmons she loved to eat, but with a subtle flavor of tea and honeyed cakes. Unable to suppress it, her princess let out a soft moan. How delicious. She shifted and began to suck and kiss on Mayu's neck, attention traveling down as the other became louder. "I know...that I love you more, like this," she hummed into the reddening flesh, which was moist with her own saliva. "You're so cute."

Her broken little darling, shattered and bleeding, closed her eyes in defeat. Her breaths came in shallow, trembling gasps for a bit, before they ceased altogether. Left behind was a doll, her very own plaything. And until they realized their little star was out cold, she had all the time she liked to enjoy her. She sat up and wrapped her arms around the others head, holding it to her chest. It felt so gentle, and she couldn't help but let out a sigh. Her darling, her little porcelain princess, would only ever look at her. Even if her eyes were glassy, that didn't matter. Because no one would ever,_ could_ ever, take that away.

Even the sweet, lingering scent of chamomile...


	2. nostalgia ( rin&miku )

School was over again, and the warm glow of sunset embraced the scenery.

Some of the other kids sat around chatting, their words an endless drone of nonsense punctuated by laughter, but she had no such desires. Her feet, snugly clad in loafers, stepped forward one after the other on the crumbly asphalt. The voices, like the broadcast from a cheap radio, gradually grew tinny and bled into each other. She increased her pace.

How long had her afternoons been spent like this? Departing from school as soon as clubs were over and rushing to that person's house. It felt strangely lonely, but she had no wish to cry. Instead, a smile rose on her features. Because, even if that person took up so much of her life, she would never complain.

Because "that person" was so beloved to her, that she would never let them go.

A soft tune danced out of her lips as she walked, although the name of the song eluded her. Everything felt nostalgic. As her feet reached the bridge, she swung her hands out, and up to touch the clouds. Her bag rustled with the sudden movement. In all the fairy tales and the movies that she had grown up with, people in love were shown to be blissful, and blind to everything around them. Funny, wasn't it? She had never felt such a thing. Her eyes were always wide open, catching and drinking in all of her surroundings, and she wasn't exactly happy. More than that, she was...satisfied.

Beneath her feet, lake-water swished and lapped the shore. And to the side, cars sped by. They were blurs of blue, silver, black, beige. And red.

She halted her pace.

Red, like the bleeding sky, and her hands. Her hands that were smeared scarlet, dripping pulpy black onto the steaming asphalt. Blue, silver, black, beige, red. Her breath caught in her throat, choking her. Blue, silver, black beige, red, all tearing by in the blistering summer air. Like a marrow of hell, swallowing her up...

A moment passed, and the blonde came to her senses, clutching her clammy chest with trembling fingers. Her head pulsed rhythmically, nausea taking hold, but she frowned and tried her best to steady her breathing. The sun...was slowly setting, wasn't it? She needed to get going before it got dark. Her feet resumed walking forward, soon breaking into a run, arms swinging by her sides and hair flying every which way. Cold sweat dripped down her forehead.

Her beloved's house was in sight.

She walked the rest of the way quickly, stumbling onto the steps. Her hand reached down to fumble in her bag for a key. Body working unconsciously, she stuffed it into the lock and turned it about, shoving open the door when she heard a click. Dim lighting greeted her immediately, and she blinked to adjust herself to it. The living room was a mess.

Shutting the door and laying her bag against a table, she flopped down on the couch, loafers slipping off. To be honest, she really didn't want to get up, but she'd have to. That person never ventured outside of their room, save to use the bathroom. She gave a fond sigh and stood, stretching.

Her socked feet padded through the house like a cat's. Reaching the only lit bedroom in the house, she reached out and entwined her slender fingers about the knob, turning it until she was granted entry. It made a shrill creak as it gave way, and she stepped into the room.

"I'm home." She gave a gentle smile, eyes locking onto the girl curled up some feet away. She wore only a baggy, unbuttoned white shirt, dulled teal hair spilled and tangled. Her shoulders rose and fell subtly with every shallow breath. Rin settled on the edge of the bed, hands resting on her lap. "Miku-nee... It's night now. You didn't leave your room again."

The form paused, arms shifting to lift itself off of the wrinkled sheets. The girl's head turned to look back at her. Her eyes, once so vibrant and blue, were lidded and bruised-looking. She smiled weakly, and spoke in a whispery voice. "I missed you. I've been waiting all this time for you to come home." She shifted so that her body faced Rin's, the tips of her breasts just covered by the shirt she wore. Her figure was pitiful, scarred and nearly starved, with skin lifeless and sallow.

And yet, somehow, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Rin reached out her hands to grasp the others shoulders, bony as they were, and leaned in until their lips pressed together. It was soft and delicate, and Miku's lips were very dry, but left the blonde with a warm, fluttery feeling. Maybe she'd give in, just for a little while... Her lips molded against the others as a sort of passion bubbled in her stomach. It was so...delicious, that unique and foggy flavor. Her tongue slipped out and forced itself into her beloved's mouth with no objection. Soon, she had lost all self control.

Her hands groped greedily at Miku's breasts, and then slid up and down her lovely sides. Was that a moan? Pleased, she broke the contact and began to kiss and suck on her love's neck, fingers slipping down between her legs. Every little noise, every hoarse squeak, was music to her ears. And her darling was already so wet!

"You're so cute..." she whispered into the reddened flesh. "I just can't help myself." A grin rising on her lips, she began to nibble on the others collarbone. Miku's legs kept fidgeting and jerking about, especially when she increased the speed of her fingers... Though, the sound they made was so lewd! She giggled and lowered her attention to her beloved's breasts again, gently playing with her nipples.

"Nhaaah," she would manage. "Ri~n, that's...!" But they both were smiling honestly, and they knew that. After all, she just wanted to make sure Miku was happy. A sudden cry, and the others back arched in. Aah, her fingers were all wet. She drew them out and began to suck on and lick them, marveling at the flavor. ...But mostly to see her love burn like a tomato. She giggled and kissed Miku's cheek.

"I'll go and make dinner, OK? You must be starving." Giving the other a cheerful smile, she stood and turned to leave for the kitchen. Ah, so cute. So cute! Around her, she just couldn't control herself. It didn't even matter if Miku was older; she was hers, and that was that. The same tune from before played out of her lips, and, hm, some of the words surfaced too. "Waratte, waratte, jibun o yuukidzukete..." What a strange song.

She began to rifle through the freezer and came upon some hamburger patties. Those would do, right? Tapping them on the counter, they were pretty hard, so she'd need a knife...

Red.

She'd taken that knife and driven it right into **him**, hadn't she? Made him regret every harsh word, every bruise, every scar. It didn't matter that he was her love's stepfather, that she had loved him with every bit of good in her heart. Seeing him that summer day, she had felt absolutely sick. Sick enough to retch, retch with pure hatred.

What a disgusting man.

If she had let things go as they did, wouldn't her beloved have eventually been hurt badly enough to be killed? Or so defiled and degraded to want to kill herself? Rin...couldn't allow that, not ever. A shudder rocked through her, and she could almost feel the pulpy liquid staining her hands again. His blood was so warm...

Tears filled her eyes, and the knife fell. The patties clattered against the counter. She crouched and held her head. It hurt, it hurt so much... Her cheeks felt moist, and she smeared it away, but it just kept flowing. She let out a noise between a choke and a sob.

"I don't want to lose you."


	3. cherries ( gumi&miki )

We were born on the same day.

Everyone found it sort of peculiar, since I was early and she was late. Not only that, but of course we were from separate families. My mother was rather upset about it, apparently, but since our parents were great friends, the tension passed. We sort of grew up together, as inseparable as if we really were twins. We'd celebrate every birthday together and share our presents. For as long as I could remember, she was my closest friend.

Looking back, she was kind of a funny girl. Around me, she was cheerful as could be. A really fun person to play with, too. But she never really had any other friends. Around the boys, especially, she'd get all quiet and excuse herself. I really liked her smile; it made me happy. So whenever that'd happen, I'd follow her and invite her to play some game. She also never really liked it when I went to play with the others. She'd sit on the curb, leaning on her palms and kicking at the crumbly asphalt. And I felt bad, because I didn't want to see her alone like that. So it was always just the two of us, and neither of us really minded. We didn't need anyone else.

Play-dates and sleepovers and so many group projects... Even in school, we stuck close. By some luck, we were in the same class each year. She was a much better student than me, so whenever tests rolled around, she'd be tutoring me in this or that subject. I never really ended up getting it, which she'd tease me for. My parents were never all that happy about my scores either, ahaha...

When we reached middle school, well, that's when things began to change. Not for us (not directly, anyway), but I guess it sort of opened our eyes. There was a girl at school that I had known for years. She was friendly, and I had always enjoyed her sense of humor. Her name was Iroha, I believe? It's difficult to remember. We had never been close, but I had liked her well enough. In our second year, there were these rumors going around about her. All sorts of vulgar words that I didn't really understand. I remember thinking how unfair it was that such a nice person was receiving such hatred, and I approached her about it after school. She gave such a sad smile, and told me why: she had been dating a girl. I was confused at first; wasn't it boys that liked girls? I guessed that had been the others reactions as well, but I wasn't about to hate her for it.

A month after our conversation, she was withdrawn from school.

The rumors had reached the adults, and the reactions had been mixed. I remember my mother's face when she talked about it in vivid detail. How her eyes narrowed and her lips peeled down in disgust. The pure, raw revulsion in her features etched itself in my mind. More than that, though, was the laugh she gave then. That cold, hard laugh that sent shivers of horror trickling down my spine. "Served the brat right. They should have kept her there. Chained her up in those halls like the dirty rat she is. That would've cured her."

Miki and I excused ourselves at those words. I think she was as uncomfortable with it as I was. She hadn't known Iroha, but hadn't thought ill of her either, and the whole thing was rather disturbing. I began to wonder if the other adults thought as my mother did, and what the big deal about it was. She wasn't a "rat". She was a person, right? And a friend of mine. But..."homosexuality" was a sin, according to my parents. I didn't understand it, but since they said so, it must be true, right? That was what I had always told myself.

Iroha moved away after that, I believe. I hoped her parents were more accepting than mine. I didn't really want her chained up somewhere. And, for a while, things mostly went back to normal. The halls no longer buzzed with whispers, and Miki and I chatted and enjoyed ourselves together like we always had. We would go to the ice cream shop on the corner and order big, elaborate sundaes. She'd always steal my cherry, but that was alright. I'd just take a big scoop of her whipped cream. Soon we'd end up in mini food fights, and one time it got so bad that the owner of the shop asked us to leave. We were both covered in cool, drippy vanilla and hot fudge and cream, and her hair was full of sprinkles. At the sight of it, we both burst out laughing.

Since my mother would have killed us for dirtying our clothes like that, we decided to go to her house to clean up. Her parents were both at work, so no one would bother us (although her family was more lenient in general). We each took showers and dressed ourselves in pajamas. I always kept spares at her place. We both settled on the rug in her room, chatting idly about whatever came to mind. I noticed vaguely how her shirt clung snugly to her figure, but shook my head to clear the thought, face heating up slightly.

"Hmmnh? What's wrong?" she prodded playfully, crawling up to me. Her wet hair carried a subtle scent of strawberries. I noticed how close her face was to mine and lowered my eyes uncomfortably, my heart pounding. I couldn't look at her. Why? Why was it different? It was just _Miki_. "Hey, look at me." Her voice was sort of tender. I opened my eyes.

"It's...funny, y'know? I always thought this would happen the other way around." She went to laugh, but it was soft and sort of sad, like Iroha's. I was never all that bright, but that time, the connection was immediate. Without her even needing to say it, I understood.

"It's...bad, isn't it? A 'sin'," I murmured. "Like what Mom said." She shifted closer to rest her head on my shoulder, nose pressing gently against my neck. My breath caught in my throat. Why was I just feeling that way then? How come I hadn't felt it before? Or...maybe I had, and had just ignored it? My eyes lidded, arm rising to wrap itself around her. "Then again, what does any of that mean, anyway?"

Things were silent for some time. We just sat there, nestled into each other, with the only audible sound being the ticking of the clock. I could feel her heartbeat echoing against mine. It might have been only a few minutes, but the seconds dragged on into hours. My closest friend, the one who knew every bit of me and I trusted to take care of it. The person I had known all my life, who had always been there. Did I love her? Of course.

But was it _romantic_ love?

She lifted her head finally, gaze soft and hands lightly gripping my shoulders. My arm was still draped about her, and I held her waist. I thought she might speak, and she looked like she did too. But the words remained breathless on her lips. Instead, she leaned in. And in that moment, every doubt was erased. I didn't understand it at all, but for once, that was okay. It felt so natural and normal and right. That was how things were 'meant to be'. It wasn't evil at all. Her lips tasted like sprinkles and bright red cherries, and through the kiss, I found myself laughing. Her eyes fluttered open, surprised, and then she couldn't help but laugh too. We ended up a giggling fit on the floor, feet dangling in the air and backs rolling around. When the laughter subsided, I clung to her form and nestled my head under her arm, shutting my eyes. I think she smiled then, because even though I couldn't see it, somehow I could just tell.

I think I knew then that things wouldn't be the same. That everything was going to get really difficult, but I was okay with it if it was with her. I couldn't imagine being without her. We were in a 'relationship', but no one knew about it. It was our lovely secret. Around people we were the same as ever (and we were especially careful around my parents), but alone, we came a little closer. Just a little. We were still too scared to really do or say anything, so most of those moments were spent entwined in each others arms. Sounds a little cheesy, looking back... Ehehe.

We entered high school without any problems. Only four more years, I told myself, and then I'd be free. I made some friends other than Miki there. Just a couple, but they were nice enough. And it was helping her come out of her shell, which was an extra bonus. She couldn't go through life clinging to me, after all. Some boys took an interest in me, but I always rejected them. I wasn't interested, and although I couldn't tell them, I was already taken. As she got to be more social, Miki had some trouble with that too. Usually I would accompany her, because she would get so nervous.

It was in the beginning of our third year that she told me she'd handle an encounter herself. I was surprised, and I wasn't sure she could handle it, but I let her go anyway. They were to meet behind the school, which raised some alarms, but I ignored them. Because it'd be fine, right? And I needed to trust her. I couldn't shake off the worry, though, so I spent some time after school at the bookstore down the block. I couldn't go all the way home feeling like that. Except it had been quite some time, and she hadn't walked down that road yet. It wasn't as if she'd take a different route; it was the only way home, and she always stayed over at my house on Tuesdays. When the sun began to go down, I shook off my doubts and ran toward the school, curving toward the back. Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.

I reached the spot, and at first, I couldn't see her. She wasn't standing anywhere nearby. And then... I looked down. Miki was sprawled on the ground, her arms and legs both spread and her hair spilled and tangled. Her jeans had been yanked down, and her shirt pulled up to expose her breasts. I stood there in horror for who knows how long, struggling to take everything in. I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it. Her eyes fluttered open then, revealing that lovely cherry red, and filled up with tears. I crouched down, wiping them away gently with my finger.

I wanted to say something to comfort her, to let her know that everything was okay now, but I wasn't so sure of that myself. I was filled with hatred toward the boy, and disgust that anyone would do that to her. I couldn't wrap my head around all those negative feelings. So as she cried and choked on her tears and hair, I gently tugged down her shirt and re-buttoned her pants. She had some scratches from the asphalt too. I'd have to care for those for her...

I hated myself for not getting there sooner.

Lifting her up, as she was always very light, I carried her all the way home. Except, we couldn't go to my house. What she needed most, I reasoned, was her parents. And my mother's smug comments certainly wouldn't do her any good. I unlocked the door and took her inside, climbing the stairs and gingerly setting her down on her bed. Not even stirring (she was probably in a lot of pain), she fell right asleep. Her mother appeared in the doorway then, wondering why her daughter was home on a Tuesday, and sleeping in her clothes. I was faced with a rather tricky decision. Give an excuse, or tell the truth? It was difficult to get any words out at all.

My expression grave, I led her mother into the living room, murmuring that there was something I wanted to talk to her about. She looked very troubled indeed, and I was reminded that Miki's mother was much gentler than my own. She actually seemed to care for her daughter, rather than just using her as a funnel to spew bigoted and ignorant opinions through. Maybe I was a little bitter.

We sat down on the couch and I told her about what had happened, making sure not to omit anything. Except, of course, her reason for rejecting the boy. I had no reason to share that just yet. Her brow furrowed and she seemed to shrink back in horror. "Is that really what happened?" she asked, voice trembling. I told her, yes, it was, and directed my eyes toward the carpet.

She asked if I'd like some tea, and I said I would, so she stood and went to prepare some. I had a feeling it would comfort her somehow, although my being there was probably comforting enough, considering I was practically a second daughter to her. We chatted for a little while more, before she excused herself and left for her room. I stayed the night, in case Miki needed me. And I ended up unable to sleep.

At around two in the morning, she woke up, whispering my name into the darkness. I flipped on the light and sat up. She still looked to be in a lot of pain and quite miserable. Her cheeks were red and sticky. I stood up and gave a gentle smile, whispering, "I can clean out those cuts for you." I didn't really want to smile, but I thought it might make her feel better. She gave a hesitant nod, and I lifted her again, pausing as she whimpered. There were some supplies in the bathroom. I remembered, because I had cut myself up at the park one time some years back. I closed the lid on the toilet and had her sit, carefully pulling off her shirt. It was visibly bloodstained, but that wasn't important now. I unclipped her bra as well, and assessed the damage. It was quite horrible.

"This might hurt a little," I said, and sprayed the area. She instantly let out a pained cry. At least, she intended to, but her voice was so hoarse. She began to cry again, and I kissed her cheek, feeling my own eyes begin to water. I just hoped that the worst hadn't happened. When her tears turned to sniffles, I resumed cleaning her back, and covered the major scrapes with bandages. Then I lifted her up and carried her back to her room, and set up the portable DVD player. I wanted to get her to smile somehow, or at least start to feel a little comforted. It was some comedy movie that we had liked to watch as kids, and I delicately wrapped my arms about her lower back and stomach, making sure not to aggravate any of the cuts. Soon she was giggling softly, and I held her close, face leaning into her neck and hair. The scent of that boy lingered on her, but it mingled with that strawberry fragrance she always carried. Lamenting that I hadn't gotten her to shower first, I rocked very slightly side to side.

I knew then, without a doubt in my mind, that she was the only person I'd ever love.

Miki's mother kept her home the next day, but my mother wouldn't budge. So even though I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep at all and she was all I could think about, I dressed myself and left, praying that nothing more would go wrong. I really couldn't handle much more. I fell asleep in every class that day, but was always woken up within a few minutes in each nap by the sight of her lying there behind the school. As soon as classes were over, I headed straight for her house, not even thinking to take any detours.

It was a gradual process with Miki. She stayed out for a couple more days and then returned to school. Her mother set her up with the counselor there, since she couldn't afford any sort of therapy but still felt her daughter needed something. But it turned out that our misfortune wasn't over yet. Over a month after the incident, Miki confessed to me that she still hadn't had her period. It was what I had feared most, and for it to be true... I bought her a pregnancy test, fingers crossed. It came out positive.

Wasn't this the sort of thing people aborted for? But her mother would never allow for it. I told her, since Miki was too scared to, and braced myself for her reaction. Indeed, just as expected. Shock and horror mixed with concern, and stubborn opposition to my idea. It didn't matter how much she cared about her daughter. All parents, it seemed, were the same. "You should name the baby Miku," she said finally, looking thoughtful. I stared at her in disgust.

Then I took Miki's hand and led her out of that house.

We couldn't go to my place. But maybe...my brother's? He lived in the next town over, and he was always a lot less strict than my parents. We had grown a bit distant over the years, but it would probably be fine. I called a taxi and rode it to his apartment building. They knew me there, so there wasn't any trouble. I knocked on his door hesitantly. Some shuffling (was he in bed?) and stomping around could be heard before it finally swung open.

"Ah," I remarked. "You dyed your hair pink." Yuuma was always sort of funny in that way. Once he moved out, he was always dying his hair different colors, and he had a couple of piercings too. Chatting a bit, we went inside, seating ourselves on the couch. Miki looked somewhat shy. She had never grown completely comfortable around him, and I guessed the incident hadn't helped.

"So what can I do for you?" he said, grinning. His hands were tucked into his sweatshirt pockets, feet propped up on the coffee table. "You usually don't come here unless there's a good reason for it. And, well, you brought a suitcase."

I nodded. "Could we bunk here for a few weeks? Kind of special circumstances, and we really need the help. If you want, I could even pay you..."

But he shook his head. "That's okay. Door's always open for you two. Although I would like to know what those special circumstances are." And that's why I loved my brother. Whenever I really needed him, he was there. Not to mention how cool he was about stuff. I supposed I might be able to tell him our secret, even. It'd be somewhat of a comfort getting it out there.

Miki was dreadfully tired, so I laid her down on the couch with a blanket and some pillows, and left for the other room with Yuuma. And I told him everything, absolutely everything. He just nodded and made small sounds, not assuming or butting in. Finally, when I finished, he gave a sigh. "Fuckin' parents..." He leaned against the dresser, supported by his elbows. "I can take her to get that taken care of, if you want. Y'might want to do something about school too, 'cause I don't think either of you are in much of a state to go." He was right.

He gave me some money for a cab ride and I rode to my school, going right up to the office. And I dropped out. I knew that, in that moment, I was probably making a terrible decision, but I didn't even care anymore. I wasn't planning on going anywhere, anyway. Miki would have to stay in school, of course, because she actually had a future. My grades weren't anything to boast about, even when I tried. Though, I had my own dreams...

I got a strange sort of compulsion then, and I walked to my house, and swung open the door. My mother glanced up from the chicken she was preparing on the counter. "Goodbye for good," I yelled out. "My **girlfriend** sends her regards!" That face... I'll never forget it. How her face twisted in shock and disgust, and she lunged over the counter. I shut the door and ran, having called a cab back some time before. I don't think I've ever worn a more satisfied grin.

Yeah, from that day on, I was free!

We ended up staying at Yuuma's for a lot longer than planned. I got some job that paid barely any money and tried out for singing gigs around town. Miki transferred to the high school there and began attending again. And I supported her completely. For once, our paths had branched, but I didn't mind that. I wanted her to be happy and successful, so anything that went toward that was perfectly okay with me.

Now... That's all in the past, isn't it? Miki's attending college now, and I'm still working at this cruddy job, but I'm getting noticed a bit as far as my singing. We're going to be moving to a bigger place soon since it's rather cramped with the three of us.

My pencil tapped on the page, unsure what to write next. I had written...pretty much everything, hadn't I? The whole history of Miki and I. I guess there was one thing more I could write. A smile formed on my lips.

Maybe, in the future...we could get married? And kidnap a kid. Sure, its parents would be upset, but I think it'd love its new Miki-mommy and Gumi-mommy very much. Hehe, maybe even more than its previous parents. A little girl... We could name her Miku. She'd have long teal hair and big, round eyes and a rosy little nose. And she'd be a terrible crybaby.

I leaned on my hands, gazing thoughtfully out the window. Yeah, I can't wait for the future.


End file.
